


Hero of His Own Story

by atamascolily



Category: Thursday Next - Jasper Fforde, Wishbone (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Literary References & Allusions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:16:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29505372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atamascolily/pseuds/atamascolily
Summary: A dog keeps turning up inside classic literature. Jurisfiction agent Thursday Next is on the case.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	Hero of His Own Story

I first caught sight of him during a routine jump into "A Scandal in Bohemia," by Arthur Conan Doyle, one of the earliest Sherlock Holmes stories. Having stopped in at 221B Baker Street to say hello to Mrs. Hudson, I couldn't resist a peek into the living room on the way to the kitchen. But what I found there gave me pause: Dr. Watson and the disguised King of Bohemia were familiar figures, but the tricolored Jack Russell terrier bedecked in the classic deerstalker hat wasn't a character I was expecting.

"I don't remember Sherlock Holmes ever being a _dog_ before," I muttered under my breath as I stared at the tableau from the hallway.

"Oh, that's just Wishbone," Mrs. Hudson said brightly next at my elbow. "He's not fictional--he's _real,_ like you. Fills in for Mr. Holmes sometimes. Isn't he cute?"

He certainly was. But a _dog--_ even in costume--filling in for Sherlock Holmes without the proper authorization?

"Oh, please, Agent Next," Mrs. Hudson begged, catching the stern look in my eye. "He's _harmless_. None of our readers have ever noticed a thing and Dr. Watson absolutely adores him--he used to keep a bull pup at his old place before he moved in. He does so miss having a dog around from time to time, you know?"

I blinked and considered my options. Technically, Jurisfiction wasn't supposed to let rogue actors pop in and out of texts whenever they felt like it, let alone dogs. On the other hand, this wasn't the official library copy, and my desk was threatening to collapse under the weight of all the unfinished paperwork already piled up.

So I decided to let it slide and took Mrs. Hudson up on her most welcome offer of tea and crumpets in the kitchen. While I congratulated myself on my magnanimity, the substitute Holmes wandered out with Watson in tow to sniff out their suspect.

***

The problem was that little dog kept popping up everywhere I went. _Tom Sawyer_. _Oliver Twist_. _Faust_. Even _Silas Marner_ , for heavens' sake!

"Wishbone, huh?" the Chesire Cat said when I asked him if he had any knowledge of a dog with an uncanny taste for classic literature and a proven talent for slipping his leash. "He gets his nose into everything, I'm afraid. You know how it is with canines."

"But _Raoul de Chagny_?" I said. "Cyrano de Bergerac? _Romeo?_ "

"You forgot Mr. Darcy in _Pride and Prejudice_ ," the Cat supplied helpfully. "He usually casts himself as the romantic lead, with the typical arrogance of his breed. No sense of proportion, that one."

Depending on the Darcy in question, that might actually be an improvement, I thought, but held my tongue.

"He's not always the hero, of course," the Cat went on with a devilish grin. "He was Sancho Panza in _Don Quixote_ , Louis de Conte in _Joan of Arc_ , and John Utterson in _Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_. Once he was Pip in _Great Expectations_ , but Miss Havisham threw a shoe at him and ordered him out of her sight and he hasn't been back since."

My former mentor had not been one to suffer fools lightly. _Maybe I should take a leaf out of her book,_ I thought.

But I decided to try talking first.

***

The next time Wishbone and I crossed paths, he was C. Auguste Dupin in Poe's "The Purloined Letter". _What's with this dog and detectives?_ I cursed in annoyance, though I supposed I was lucky he hadn't gotten his muddy paws all over Dashiell Hammet and Raymond Chandler yet. Maybe Sam Spade was too much of an antihero for him, or maybe he had a bone to pick with the moral ambiguity of the hardboiled genre.

I waited until Wishbone finished his scene with the French chancellor and was safely out of narrative view before I made my move. "Oh, dear, cry havoc and release this dog," he said as he caught sight my gun and badge, and jumped straight to a retelling of _Robin Hood_ without waiting for an answer.

Of course I jumped in after him. And again, and again, and again--

"You know what you're doing is technically illegal, don't you?" I said, when I finally caught up with him in a prose translation of Homer. "You're not Odysseus, you're a dog _pretending_ to be Odysseus. I don't understand the appeal."

"Look, life is boring when you're a dog," Wishbone said, scratching himself behind the ears. "The vast, infinite shores of classic literature are filled with adventure and excitement, yearning to be explored! How could I _not_? All of the characters _love_ having me around! I mean, look at Calypso here!" he added, with a nod to the regal sorceress hovering in the background. "She _never_ wants me to leave! And I always make sure to dress the part!"

I had to admit, the little toga and the ivy leash were a nice touch. "Is that all you have to say for yourself?"

"It's fun to be the center of attention," he admitted shamefacedly. " _And_ it gives me something to do while Joe and his friends are at school that isn't digging up the neighbor's flower beds." He fluttered his big puppy-dog eyes at me in hopes of wriggling out of trouble.

As it happened, I had the perfect solution, but I let him stew in silence for a moment just to drag out the suspense. "Very well," I said at last. "Have you ever considered a career at Jurisfiction?"

As they say: If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Or convince them to join _you._ And anyone who was that good at spontaneous bookjumps was someone I wanted on our side.

He wagged his tail and I knew I had his full attention. "When would I start?"

***

Now that Wishbone was a part-time Jurisfiction agent instead of a renegade tourist, I rarely encountered him outside staff meetings and the occasional visit to the Library. But on assignment to review the structural integrity of Notre Dame-de-Paris in the works of Victor Hugo, I turned the corner to find two dogs touring the celebrated cathedral--dressed as Quasimodo and Esmeralda, respectively.

Wishbone barked in delight as he saw me, and offered a respectful canine bow. "Penny, my esteemed colleague, Agent Next. Agent Next, my friend Penny," he said, with a gallant sweep towards his companion. "She, ah, also shares my taste in literature, and..."

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Next," Penny said gravely, offering me her paw to shake with admirable politeness. "Wishbone has told me about your important work at Jurisfiction, and how I might be a part of it--"

I smiled and nodded as she rambled on about the glories of classic literature, doing my best to hide my dismay. _Oh, no, there are * _two*_ of them now--_


End file.
